


What Happens When you Break Mr. Brightside

by okaytlyn (orphan_account)



Series: fuck me in the ass [1]
Category: CROSS GENE, K-pop, Secret (Band), 더 러버 | The Lover (TV)
Genre: F/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-07
Updated: 2015-07-07
Packaged: 2018-04-08 02:12:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4286823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/okaytlyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>{Takuya picks up Hyosung’s pieces on the dance floor and decides to teach her a lesson.}</p><p> </p><p>““Hyosung,” he says slowly, one hand on her thighs, one thumbing the arch of the steering wheel. “You’ve been very, very naughty tonight.”<br/>“I-I-I have?”<br/>“Yes. And for that,” Takuya turns to her with eyes dark and his tone dips to something lower, something that makes Hyosung squirm in so much confusion and want, “I’ll have to punish you.””</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Happens When you Break Mr. Brightside

**Author's Note:**

> if i ruined your image of pretty & submissive flower child Takuya, i'm sorry.

Takuya watches as Hyosung goes all out on the dance floor.

He takes a sip from the cocktail balanced in between his hands but his eyes carefully follow her figure. Hyosung is an extremely talented dancer, and no one can deny it. She also always gets a _little_ too ambitious when she’s had too much to drink for the night, and Takuya can’t deny the itching frustration that burns from the back of his neck as she gyrates on every animate thing on the dance floor.

Her gazes were darker than usual; her hands stayed on strangers’ longer than he would have liked and her dance battle with the other guy, Doojoon was getting out of hand.

Takuya isn’t patient by nature. To everyone else he seems to embody the virtue, and the truth’s just that it’s something he tries to live by, but his girlfriend was taking it to the limit.

“Konichiwa!” A girl appears out of nowhere to sidle up next to him, with an attempt to seduce Takuya with badly pronounced Japanese, “I’m Dahye. Care to buy me a drin-”

With eyes still trained on Hyosung, Takuya hastily shoves her away and pushed through the massive throng of bodies surrounding the spotlight-doused dance floor. He would have been nicer in rejection if this was at a different time, but right now, he has more important things in mind.

Hyosung had seemed to forget time and space, seemed to forget she was wearing a skirt that left almost nothing to the imagination, seemed to forget that her competitor was a very aroused and very thirsty dancer as she gets caught up in the desire to win and attempts a vertical jump from the handstand position. With dozens of eyes from male and female alike trained on her very figure.

The handstand is the easy part. The hard part is landing. People aren’t the most graceful or swag-amplifying beings when they’re drunk and competitive. A sinking feeling settles in Hyosung’s stomach when she realizes that she isn’t going to land on her feet, and she embraces the humiliation of failing a trick, anticipating the backward impact of the fall.

She doesn’t hit the ground. She doesn’t see stars, she doesn’t see the Doojoon guy rubbing his victory in her face, she doesn’t feel the pain of the back of her head colliding with the surface of the ground.

Instead, Hyosung’s face full with an insanely familiar smell and big hands on her shoulders, steadying her into a standing position.

Hyosung has a stupid grin on her face, like she hadn’t been in bodily contact with dozens of bodies in the past ten minutes.

“Hi Takuya,” she breathes.

Takuya glares lazers into the eyes of the men staring at her as he ties his jacket around her waist. “Let’s get out of here,” he murmurs as he slings and arm around her shoulder and ushers them both out of that hellhole of a company party.

 

 

Takuya’s knuckles are white on the steering wheels as he recalls the image of other guys making their moves on her back in there. Unconsciously, he lets out a low growl when they hit the highway and winds down the windows to lessen up the quickly building up heat in their enclosed space.

Hyosung has her elbow dangling off from the side of the window as she watches buildings pass, the night sky lit up by dazzling signboards and glowing logos.

“Still not tired?” Takuya asks. Hyosung usually knocks out once she’s downed her second bottle of soju.

“I still have energy. I still want to dance,” she pouts, and oh my god, does she think this is all a joke?

“With who? That Doojoon guy? Or the guy before, Yongguk from HR Team 6?”

“Takuya, I-”

“Do you actually like testing my patience? Or do you-”

Takuya has to stop himself from going so far, but looking at her curled up on his car seat combined with the previous pent-up sexual frustration does wonders for his brain. He knows it’s not Hyosung’s fault.

 Yet…

Yet it is.

He can’t explain it. The primitive, instinctive feeling that makes him want to punch people bloody whenever they touch her and whenever she touches them. Takuya swears, he really gives his all into being an easy-going, open-minded and supportive boyfriend but in times like this it’s all too easy to give no fucks to that image.

She’s facing him now, chewing on her bottom lip and fiddling with the collar of his jacket that’s splayed over her as he parks the car.

“Hyosung,” he says slowly, one hand on her thighs, one thumbing the arch of the steering wheel. “You’ve been very, very naughty tonight.”

“I-I-I have?”

“Yes. And for that,” Takuya turns to her with eyes dark and his tone dips to something lower, something that makes Hyosung squirm in so much _confusion_ and _want,_ “I’ll have to punish you.”

 

 

 

They’re not even out of the lift before he pounces on her, attacking her plump lips as they move clumsily from wall to wall, door to door, before they finally reach his home. Takuya hastily shoves the keys into the lock and they burst into the apartment, hot and eager.

He slams it shut and corners her with both elbows against the wall. Her mewls of pleasure sends waves of arousal downwards as Takuya sucks on her sweet spot just behind her right ear, trailing downwards to where her neck ends and where her collarbones start. Hyosung’s not going to be able to hide the amount of hickeys tomorrow at work.

“I know what you’re thinking, and God, I want them to all know you’re mine. Only mine,” Takuya whispers into her ear, sending shivers down her spine.

He grips her thighs and shifts her whole body upwards against the wall so that they’re at the same height, same eye-level.

“Take off your top.”

Hyosung more than willingly complies, and she’s met with a “Good girl, Hyosung,” that escapes from his mouth.

Takuya massages her breasts, peppering kisses all over them; they fit just right in his huge hands. He dips into the fabric of her bra to roll her hardening nipples in between his fingers. It drives her absolutely crazy; he’s doing it the way he likes to do it, his thumbs rotating in clockwise, then changing direction to anti-clockwise, with that fucking _smirk_ on his face.

His fingers find the clasp and he unhooks it expertly, pulling the bra down and off with his teeth.

Her fingers find his dirty blonde locks atop of his head and they curl around them as she moans into his shoulder.

Hyosung suddenly can’t feel the wall as she feels herself being lifted up and then landing in a pile of freshly laundered sheets. She lies on her back as he pins her arms above her and kisses her mercilessly. A gasp escapes her mouth when Hyosung feels him press two fingers to her womanhood and massages it through her panties.

Takuya pants from above her, still fully clothed. Hyosung fumbles with the buttons of his dress shirt as he strips off her skirt and panties at once, his kisses driving her into a rhythm that pushes her further into the bedding.

“Oh my god, Takuya,” Hyosung cries when his mouth suddenly leaves hers and moves towards her lips that lay between her legs.

“Open,” Takuya growls, pushing her thighs apart, kissing the milky expanse of skin near her groin and presses his tongue flat against her pussy.

“I.” he pants, tongue curling around her clit with every word, “Can’t. Stand. Anybody. Else. Touching. You.”

A slow burning starts from the pit of Hyosung’s abdomen as she feels herself become so sensitive to the touch; his tongue on her clit, his hand on her breasts.

“I-i-If you’re not stopping I’m going t-to cum,” Hyosung struggles to say, what she planned to sound like a warning coming out as a mewl of desperation.

Takuya suddenly pulls away and the loss of his lips on hers sends Hyosung into shock. The corners of his mouth pull into a smirk as he stands up from the end of the bed. His erection strains against his jeans and Hyosung imagines that it must hurt, but the loss of pleasure is nonetheless unnerving.

“Why’d you stop?” she whines.

Takuya unzips his jeans and pulls it down, along with his underwear, and reaches into the second drawer for condoms and lube. His cock springs up against his toned abdomen, and if she wasn’t feeling thirsty before, she definitely is now.

“Hyosung, let’s play a game, alright?”

 “What game?”

“If you come before I allow you to, we’re going another round,”

Hyosung closes her grip around his immense length and pumps. “O-Okay.”

“Sit on my face,” he says. They’ve never done this before.

She positions herself over Takuya’s cock and spreads her legs over his face, and sucks it hard, her head bobbing up and down.

The moment his lips press a kiss to her clit, she already feels the build-up from when he ate her out just now rush back to her abdomen and Hyosung tries so, so hard to stop herself from coming.

“When…when can I…” she cries in between deep-throating her boyfriend, and her thighs struggle to close to block the orgasm, but his hands hold them firmly apart.

“Not now.”

Hyosung continues her struggle in the sixty-nine position until she can’t do it anymore.

“Fuck it , Takuya, I can’t-”

Her body trembles with release under the unrelenting action of his tongue and Hyosung tries and fails to suppress the long, throaty moan that comes out from her mouth.

“Get off,” Takuya commands as he repositions Hyosung into the pillows and probes at her entrance with a lubed finger. He does it at a snail’s pace, just to see that _look_ on her face. He’s well aware of his own pain, his manhood straining for release, but Takuya’s priority tonight it Hyosung, and Hyosung alone.

Slowly, he adds another, and then one more, until she’s a whimpering mess beneath him.

“P-P-Please…”

“Please what?” Takuya retorts, “I want to hear you beg for it.”

“Just oh my god, please fuck me!”

He pushes in all at once and her hands encircle Takuya’s neck, pulling him towards her when he’s fully inside. He thrusts madly into her, the speed quickening with their pants. Hyosung wants to scream with pleasure as he finds her g-spot and hits it over and over again.

“I just want to fuck you senseless,” Takuya growls raggedly into her ear, “make sure you can’t fucking walk tomorrow.” Hyosung hates how hearing her boyfriend swear turns her on so, so much.

Her core trembles against his cock and she can feel Takuya at the brink of release as well. Hyosung bites into the sharp arch of his shoulder and buries her head into his neck as she feels it coming.

Takuya wraps his arms around her waist, almost losing himself in the pleasure and the simple feeling of holding Hyosung in his arms. But he remembers he has a purpose.

“Hyosung, have I allowed you to come yet?”

“No but I-”

He feels her walls squeezing against him violently and feels her shake in his arms, her eyes squeezed shut as they both come in unison. Her nails dig crescents into his back as they ride out the orgasm.

“You lost. Again,” Takuya pants as he rolls over next to her.

“I’m not good at this thing,” she whines.

Takuya can’t actually find it in himself to be angry at her.

 

“Hey, want round three now?” Hyosung asks as she casually gives Takuya a handjob, thumbing over his slit and raising one eyebrow.

“Fuck yes.”

Takuya rises from his position on the bed to try to pin her down, but Hyosung pushes him back into the bed linen.

Positioning herself above Takuya’s cock, Hyosung slowly sinks herself upon him and adjusts to the sensation of him filling her up this way.

“How are you still so tight, ugh,” Takuya breathes, watching her fuck his cock on her own accord, and he can’t help but thrust upwards into her.

“Faster,” He says, slapping her ass.

Hyosung speeds up, hissing with pleasure as she sinks down deeper onto his cock every single time.

“Good girl.”

Hyosung doesn’t deny that she actually likes the praise, likes this side of Takuya who isn’t gently fucking her missionary style (although that was cute) and it kind of still bewilders her.

Takuya feels himself almost reach the peak with Hyosung riding him in time with that perfect rhythm. Until…

“Wi arae,” Hyosung suddenly blurts out, “wi wi arae.”

“What?”

“Me and you. Now,” Hyosung pants, her words jumbling into incoherent sentences, “Up and Down.” She doesn’t hesitate to roll her hips south-wards particularly hard when she says the word “down”.

“The fuck is that for? To kill arousal?”

Hyosung bites her lips to stem the bubbling laughter accompanied with a very near possibility of herself coming too soon. “Exactly. I don’t want to lose again.”

“Are you fucking serious?” Takuya groans.

“Yeah, I’m being serious _while_ I fuck you.”

“I always thought you had a thing for topping, Hyosung. I think I was right.”

“Ding dong daeng,” Hyosung mutters. “Can I come now, Japanese genius?”

“You’ll have to ask nicely. Have you learnt your lesson then?”

“Y-yes…”

And with that, Takuya flips her back to where he has her pinned on the bed, undone and throbbing with arousal. “I don’t want to see tonight happen again,” He grits his teeth as he feels it coming.

“Can I be allowed to come, please?” Hyosung asks unsteadily, having held it there too long.

He thrusts into her harder, faster as he senses their orgasm on the horizon. “Yes, yes you may.”

Hyosung swears she sees stars explode behind her eyelids as she feels his warmth filling her up and she’s panting so, so hard. It _feels_ so good.

 

 

“I finally passed.”

“Because I was merciful, duh,” Takuya replies after helping to clean her up.

“Did it really bother you _that_ much? That I was dancing with others and stuff?”

“Did I stutter? ’And stuff’ is an understatement, Jeon Hyosung.”

“You should dance with me instead!” Hyosung beams through her tiredness and drapes a leg over Takuya’s long body.

“With your crazy competitiveness? You’re even competitive in bed, for God’s sake.”

Takuya ruffles her head, tightens the grip on her waist and pushes her bangs out of her face. “You’re mine. Mine, and mine only.”

He drops a kiss on her forehead just before she drifts to sleep.

“Goodnight, Hyosung.”

**Author's Note:**

> what have i done
> 
> I’m so filthy, oh my god. It’s my first time writing actual smut and I just. Oh my god. I’ve finally completed something. This whole thing is just sex sex sex and some feelings but looking at the demographic of readers I’m guessing y’all are into bl?? Well this ain’t it and I’m sorry I’ve written a shit-ton of takujae already;; takuhyo has been my otp (along with jihope) ever since match made in heaven sigh


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